


Forget Me Not

by thecrowsinmyhead



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Horses, Love, Reader Insert, Romance, fluffy af, historical character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 12:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12013011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecrowsinmyhead/pseuds/thecrowsinmyhead
Summary: Lafayette/Reader fic because there are not nearly enough of them.Also a birthday gift to my best friend so happy birthday my frenchiest fry.





	Forget Me Not

While you had been born into a moderately wealthy family, you had always preferred to spend your time tending to the horses rather than talking to stuffy people your parents invited over. At least the horses couldn’t complain about how you weren’t married off yet or how the dress you wore didn’t suit you. It was here, in the stables, that you could learn everything from cleaning hooves, grooming manes, applying horseshoes, to even mastering the art of bringing a foal into the world. You loved how the animals were so gentle to you, always neighing when they saw you and nudging you when they wanted treats, which was more often than not. Although it wasn’t exactly conventional that a woman was to work in the stables your parents were very free thinking and wished you to choose whatever life you wanted. It made sense seeing how your father was part of the Continental Congress and he wished to live by his words, saying that all men or a woman were all equal in opportunity and law.

 

And so, it wasn’t really a surprise to your family when you announced that you wanted to volunteer for the Continental Army as well. Your mother objected but father had something in mind that would be safe but also not too scandalous for the day. Which is how you found yourself to be exclusively in charge of the major general’s horses, from Hamilton’s to Arnold’s, to even occasionally Washington’s horse named Blueskin. Some had objected but after your father’s influence and realizing that you working meant a few more able men in the army they kept quiet. They also couldn’t argue with how calm and controlled their horses had become under your care, making them safer to bring into the battlefield.

 

You didn’t make a fuss at the camp, keeping to yourself and happily doing your job or whatever was asked of you. Sometimes it was keeping a log of how much hay the stables went through other times it was supplying the horses with fresh water. Even though it was hard work you loved it and pushed passed the odd looks that went your way. Although war was all around you, you couldn’t help but feel content with what you were doing. By having a part to lead the country you loved so much that closer to freedom meant everything to you.

 

While working you had been able to talk briefly with the horses’ owners, sometimes they would ask you to put a special color ribbon or braid in before they went into battle and you always complied. While they seemed very nice in passing they were too busy to ever really strike conversation, always running off to give more instructions.

 

All expect one.

 

The Marquis had taken a liking to you to moment he asked you to look after his horse, Nelson. Like you, he was young and stood out against the rest of the campmates receiving his own fair share of odd looks. Having overheard in camp once that Lafayette wasn’t the greatest at handling horses you decided to make him an offer. You watched from the corner of your eye as he dismounted his horse with his long legs almost getting caught in process, you look away blushing, and busied yourself with brushing on of the horse’s mane.

 

“You know I could teach you if you wanted” you quickly say before you can catch yourself, blushing harder as you knew it wasn’t your place to comment without being asked. “Pardon…Madame?” you hear him answer coming over to you and the horse. Shyness suddenly takes over as his tall frame is now towering over your much smaller one. You look up noticing that endearing look on his face whenever he is curious about something, you bite your lip. “Well I noticed that you…are not the best rider and seem nervous around them so I was asking if you wanted me to teach you” you try to say as confidently as you can. Expecting him to get offended or brush you off you look away quickly trying to cover your mistake however the excitement in his response forces you to look back at him. “Oui! I wanted to ask but was to ah…how do you say…” you watch his nose scrunch up in concentration and try not to swoon at the cuteness of it, “embarrassed to ask. But oui I am a rather poor rider and I would greatly appreciate that Y/N”.

 

You nearly forgot to respond as you were still hung up on the way he said your name in a slight accent, you blink, blushing at your thoughts. “It’s no matter sir, come find me whenever you are –“ as you spoke the Frenchman picked up your hand to place a small kiss of gratitude to it, you can’t help but note that his lips are just as soft as they look… and feebly whisper out “free” not knowing what else to say. “Until then” he murmured with a slight pink hue to his cheeks, before taking off to perform his military obligations. You stood in shock for a moment before going back to grooming the horses, this time with a small smile on your lips. 

 

From here on, at every free opportunity Lafayette had he would come to the stables to properly learn how to ride a horse, which you found that once he got over his anxiety of the animals he was significantly better. As his riding greatly improved your friendship followed suit and within a few weeks of lessons you were writing letters to one another when he was away or even in camp. Although you suspected he would find out sooner or later… you didn’t tell him you kept them all, reading them when you were lonely or feeling sad. The Marquis was wonderful company even if it was only in words. And you quickly found yourself having more than platonic feelings for him. Every time mail was delivered, you always felt your heart skip a beat with the prospects of a letter coming from him. You looked forward to your lessons and relished every conversation you had together. Sometimes it was about books, language, childhoods, or nothing at all it didn’t matter to you. 

 

There was one lesson where the Marquis had been more quiet than normal causing you to worry that you had said something to upset him. After the lesson was over and with his horse secured, you decided to ask him. You remember him going deathly still and hiding his face, making you frown. You called his name softly out of concern, pulling one of his hands into your own. When he looked up at you there were tears on his cheeks and you stepped closer, no words needed to be said. You pulled him into a comforting embrace holding tight, playing softly with his red hair. That was the first, but not last time you had held him while he wept over the death of his fellow soldiers slain in battle. It was heartbreaking to endure but you loved him and decided long ago to always be there. It was these moments that you found yourselves becoming more dependent and open with one another in the days afterwards and soon you were nearly inseparable. 

 

People in camp would make comments about the nature of your relationship but you always brushed it off as gossip as there was nothing else to talk about but death some days. You didn’t mind really and Lafayette never spoke of it. Although you knew Hamilton was insistent on pushing it and saw the Frenchman blush every time the two were talking. You didn’t mind waiting seeing as there was a war to win and all. 

 

It all changed when you were just saying goodnight to the horses when you hear a voice behind you. 

“Excusez-moi Y/N would you accompany me for a ride tonight? I would hate to let this magnifique sky go to waste.” Turning you see Lafayette sitting atop his horse, a shy look to his face when he extends his hand. You couldn’t resist when the man was giving you a nervous smile and offering you a bouquet of fresh picked forget me nots. Blushing profusely, you accepted them, fingers brushing ever so lightly that an all too familiar swooping sensation filled your stomach which only seemed to happen when the Frenchman was around. “Yes, I would love to” you respond breathlessly. A smile crosses his lips and you fight the urge to admit your feeling but before you make a fool out of yourself he extends his hand to help you up onto his horse and you grab it before settling atop of his stallion. With a click of his tongue you were off. 

 

You quickly discover he smelt of lavender. It was so like him that a love-struck smile spread across your face, a warmth settling in your chest. You wondered how he managed to precure that in a time of war with limited resources and all…but then again… maybe it was a French thing. You pulled your arms closer around his waist your face flush to his cloak. He was incredibly soft and warm and you decided that you never wanted to let go. 

 

When Nelson came to a stop you opened your eyes to see the Marquis had brought you to an open field. It was a warm night and you could see fireflies buzzing around on the grass flickering to one another. Wordlessly he dismounted and offered his hand, you took it holding tight and when your feet where planted on the ground he didn’t let go. The Frenchman guided you a few feet away before stopping and looking up at the sky, the stars were visible as it was a cloudless night and the moon was full. You turned to look at him, admiring how he looked in the moonlight, cheekbones shadowed and eyes brighter than normal. Almost angelic. 

 

“You know I appreciate you oui?” he whispered, gripping your hand tighter, his long fingers threading into yours. “I must confess, I worry…” he paused before turning to you. You saw sadness in his eyes “that when I return to France we will not meet again.” A moment passed between you. “When I look at the sky it helps knowing that you would see the same stars and moon that I do” he murmured, his eyes watching you intently, lips hovering above your own. Your heart stood still and you spoke on a decision you had made the day you met him. 

 

“Take me with you.” 

 

Within a moment of saying this you felt the Frenchman’s lips capture yours, soft and inviting but there was no urgency behind it. You both were content to stay in the moment for as long as time allowed. You felt him shift to pull you closer and the smell of lavender overwhelmed you once again. Melting into his touch you sighed and pulled back to nuzzle your face into his neck as he peppered kisses along your shoulder leaving you a shivering mess. 

 

“I think that can be arranged.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think. Ideas are always welcome.


End file.
